


Round the Mulberry Bush

by fbf



Category: Farscape
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-20
Updated: 2003-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-18 22:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4723277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fbf/pseuds/fbf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking a spin in the comfy chair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Round the Mulberry Bush

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Whitelight and Feldman for the beta  
> Apologies to Ol’ Blue Eyes himself, Mr. Frank Sinatra, it was Wayne’s idea not mine.
> 
> I did make one change in the song the second line was originally an ‘I’ not a ‘we’. If you can correctly identify all of the odd references you win a prize.

Blood and spit spatter the chair like a Pollack painting. 

//Twirl the bucket Johnny. It won’t come out.// Not strong enough. Too heavy. Water everywhere. Susan laughing. Screaming. Pain.

//Who’s screaming?// 

Sensory overload. 

//Damn! Should’ve used the surge protector.// The TV was old, still had tubes. Snap. Crackle. Pop. Shards of glass cut into the skin. Blood pools and drips. Swirling in the water, a macabre egg dye.

“Again.”

A cold voice. Cold heart. Cold blood. Lizard face. //Marshal, Will and Holly on a routine expedition…// Swallowed them up. Alice down the rabbit hole. //I’m late! I’m late!// Tea parties. Rabbits. //One lump or two?// Smashed on the head with a mallet. Meep-Beep! Hole on a wall. Escape. Blue swirls. Safety. 

THUNK!

The chair stops.

“No!” growls Scorpius. Crossing to the control panel, he flips switch after switch but nothing happens. He pounds his fist in frustration.

John watches this with a manic grin. His blood caked eyes barely open. “Forgot to pay the electric bill Scorpy?” John cackles, then coughs up blood and bile. “Or maybe it’s a fuse? Nah, not enough bells and whistles.”

“Oh, don’t worry John. This.” Scorpius gestures to the dark control panel, “is merely a minor inconvenience. Isn’t that correct Mr. Poppers?”

Scorpius holds a small yellow rubber duck in his palm. The duck squeaks in agreement. Then it squeaks again.

“What is that?” Scorpius raises the duck to his ear. The duck emits a series of long and short squeaks, as if it is talking. Listening intently, Scorpius nods his head. “Hmmm…yes…yes…excellent…excellent idea Mr. Poppers.” The duck gives one last authoritative squeak, and then is silent.

“What the fuck?”

“Mr. Poppers has an wonderful suggestion.” Scorpius sets the duck on top of the console then pats its head.

“You’re taking advice from a duck? What, Braca wasn’t around? I think one of us had too many spins in the comfy chair, and I’m not sure its me.”

“Oh no John. It’s quite simple. You see, at heart, I’m an old fashioned guy.”

The room fills with music as Scorpius beings to sing.

> “And now, the end is near;  
>  And so we face the final curtain.  
>  My friend I’ll say it clear,  
>  I’ll state my case of which I’m certain.
> 
> I’ve lived a life that’s full  
>  I’ve traveled each and every highway;  
>  And more, much more than this,  
>  I did it my way.”

The music swells as Scorpius turns his back to John and places things on a cloth-draped cart. Scorpius sings.

> “Regrets, I’ve had a few,  
> But then again, too few to mention.  
> I did what I had to do  
> And saw it through without exception.”

Scorpius pushes the cart to John’s side. Swaying with the music, Scorpius gesticulates with abandon.

> “I planned each charted coarse;  
> Each careful step along the byway,  
> But more, much more than this,”

He removes the cloth revealing an array of evil looking medical instruments. He picks up a large curved blade, wielding it like a microphone.

> “I did it myyyyyyyyy waaaayyyyyy!”

The music crescendos with John’s screams as Scorpius cuts into his head.

~~~~~~

John jerks awake, hands feeling his head for any cuts or bandages. Finding none, he breathes deeply then slumps back against the wall. The cell door opens with a heavy thud and Scorpius walks in flanked by two grunts. John struggles to stand as the two each grab an arm.

“John, this need not be painful.” 

Looking him in the eye, John smiles. “Bring on the comfy chair.”

The grunts drag John out as he sings.

> “For what is a man, what has he got?  
> If not himself, then he has naught.  
> To say the things he truly feels;  
> And not the words of one who kneels.  
> The record shows I took the blows –  
> And did it my way!”


End file.
